


something more stubborn then you are

by erintoknow



Series: Aria [12]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Near Death Experience, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Transitioning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 03:06:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20632064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: You’re on your own. Just gotta– gotta get up, but–Your leg is stuck.





	something more stubborn then you are

**Author's Note:**

> [[Against the Day by Wolf Parade]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGynwOlCaKI)

It should have been a pretty routine bust.

And then Steel got blasted backwards into a pile of junked cars.

Things did not improve from there.

You dive behind the overturned car, holding the energy caster like a prayer. Across the smoking ruin of the street, you can hear Psychopathor laugh and the facts align for you just in time to be flung across the ground by the fireball at your back.

There’s an unholy noise of scrapping metal as the stack of junked cars you’ve slammed into.

Oh.

Oh shit.

You manage to roll out of the way as the car crashes over on its side, the glass window panes bursting outwards in a rain of glass, cutting into your suit. The whole word is ringing and you’ve completely lost track of everything. Steel? Knocked out in a pile somewhere? Ortega? Was supposed to be circling around behind while you drew the fire. Right? _Right_?

You can’t know. Can’t guess what she’s thinking, where she even is.

You’re on your own. Just gotta– gotta get up, but–

Your leg is stuck.

There’s a deep laugh, and metal digging against–over–into your leg. More noticeable now as the car frame shakes under each foot fall. Head still ringing. Can’t focus. Is this– Is this really it?

No. No no no.

You’re– you’re pinned down but Psychopathor hasn’t fired again. The car must be between you and him, blocking the shot. He’s moving to get closer. Get a clear shot. Does that make sense? Can’t be sure, can’t place anything.

Can’t place anything but footsteps getting closer.

Your heart in your chest.

Metal grinding against your leg as you try to pull free.

This is it.

This is how you go out.

A few years of freedom and it’s all cut short because you were dumb enough to take shelter next to a car’s gas tank. What’ll happen to your body? When they find out? Will they try to forget you? Will the Directive swoop in and cover things up?

Everyone will know regardless. You’re a fake, a fraud, not human, not woman, not real, empty, empty, empty and now you’ll be dead and you won’t ever see her again and

Fuck

fuck

fuck

is she at least going to be okay?

There’s a scream and at first you think it must be yours, but it goes deeper then you ever could and you can go pretty deep or at least you used to and you now you are screaming because something heavy slams into the car on your leg and you run out air but the pain doesn’t stop doesn’t stop cutting into your leg and you can only gasp for air with aching lungs tasting smoke and ash and gasoline.

“I’ve got you!”

Her voice cuts through head like a bullet and you latch on to it. “C-charge? Charge help!”

More footsteps, lighter in comparison, the creaking of metal and the strain of her breathing as the weight on you leg abates finally mercifully. You pull yourself free by your hands. Pull yourself up, to your feet, bad leg wobbling as metal crashes to the ground behind you.

Try to stand up, free on your own but you can’t do it, the pain in your leg shooting up in lines of fire and you’re falling but hands grab you, pulling you up, pulling you in. “Oh hell, are you okay?”

Ortega’s face is in yours. So close, oh _oh_– You flail your arms, you don’t want her to stop holding you – you need her to stop touching. You push her back, back woman! “Ow!” Bite back a curse as more lines of fire cross your leg. “D-damn Ortega! I won’t be if you break my spine.”

The relief on Ortega’s face is instant, and her eyes half-close. You grit your teeth. How– how much did she put into taking down Psychopathor? Your leg threatens to buckle under you as you hold Ortega up, you won’t let her fall, you won’t. “Hey– hey are you okay?” You choke out in a whisper.

“S’fine…” Ortega slurs, which of course means it isn’t fine.

“I– I’ve got you.” Biting down against the pain in your leg you put your arm around Ortega’s back, pull her’s around yours. Together you shuffle through the smoking junkyard to where you find Steel, still out could in a halo of crumbled metal. The sight makes you flinch. You may not like the bastard, but he didn’t deserve this. Could have used him in this fight.

Find a carseat sitting out in the open, you don’t so much lower yourself and Ortega down as you allow the two of you to collapse in a heap.

Now it’s a waiting game: what will happen first?

A) Will Psychopathor wake up and kill all of you?

B) Will you pass out from the pain and get exposed in a hospital?

C) Will the rest of the Rangers arrive letting you sneak off before B happens?

You shift on the seat, try to disentangling yourself for Ortega. A hand grabs your wrist. “Hey, where are you going?”

Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her face. You can feel her eyes on you all the same. “I– I gotta go before the, the uh party shows up.”

The hand on your wrist tightens. “Ariadne… are you crazy?” She coughs. “You– you need to see a doctor.”

You gasp for breath, want to cry, maybe you already are? “I _can’t_.” Can’t even explain it. You pull at your arm. Give it back. Let you go. You look down, at your leg. It’s like looking at someone else’s leg. Don’t want to think about what the back half looks like. Are your tattoos exposed?

“Then… then just, please, for once, just stay?” Ortega’s voice is low, quiet.

You feel sick, dizzy, unreal. Ignore the complaints of your leg as you twist the knee to look at the back half, run your hand down it. Only cut in one thin line, blood seeping out, not a waterfall but– more than is healthy. The bruising underneath is going to be hell. Will probably scar. Maybe need stitches when you take the suit off but for now the skinsuit’s compression doing its job.

And there’s…

“I’m all of out of juice, ‘Step.” Ortega’s not letting go of you. “I need someone watching my back.”

“I–” You swallow the lump in your throat, the bile. “I’m not getting in any ambulances, okay?”

“Ari–”

“_Promise me_.” You are making a mistake, you know it.

“Okay.” It sounds like like it pains her to say it. “Anyone tries to put you in an ambulance… I’ll punch ‘em.”

Absurd. you laugh and your ribs hurt. Good another thing to worry about.

You sag against the back of the carseat. There was no way you were going to just walk away from this one. “I’m… I’m trusting you.” You manage to get out.

The second you wake up, your heart is pounding in a panic. When did you even fall asleep? Did you fall asleep? Pass out? There’s the ceiling, spinning fan blades– You scramble to sit up, bite back a curse at the pain in your leg, your vision drains into black before returning and you’re in Ortega’s office? You’d recognize that line-up of photographs anywhere.

On the couch. The door is open. You pat yourself down. Still in your suit. Your mask is off which sets your heart racing but then you find it folded in your lap. Pat yourself down, find your leg has been wrapped tightly in white linen bandages.

Still in your suit.

Not in a hospital.

You hug yourself, and it aches to breath. Look around the office, spot your Plasma Caster propped up against the wall behind Charge’s desk.

Footsteps on creaky floorboards and you freeze in place.

Sentinel leans his head in, meets your eyes and smiles. “Well, I thought I heard something moving. How are you feeling?”

“Where’s Ortega?”

Sentinel tilts his head as he steps into the room. “They’re keeping her at the Hospital for a bit longer. Shot her battery doing that stunt.”

You touch a hand to your face. You feel like you’re watching yourself. “Then… how am I here?”

“Well…” he dusts himself off, “That would be me. She asked me to.”

“Oh.” you say, “thank you,” you add.

Sentinel nods. He rolls a shoulder, rubs his neck. He’s avoiding your gaze, you pick up, so you politely avert yours. This is a side of Sentinel you haven’t seen before, usually he seems so self-assured. “I get it. Wanting to avoid hospitals. Are you going to be good to handle yourself from here?”

You blink, look back at him. “She kept her promise.”


End file.
